Later that night, the two brothers were walking home after a quick detour for some unusual supplies.
"I feel ridiculous even carrying this bag of junk." Raezyr grumbled in his favorite intimidating tone. "I still don't get the point of going to all the extra effort we seem to be going to. I know you can get rid of any trace of the files from our Suite. Or from the club, for that matter. That would discredit any hard copy he may have, and make it seem like a forgery."
"Indeed." His older brother admitted. "But sometimes it's important to pass on lessons."
"Don't tumble with the Sith? I think most people know that, Trych."
"No... you need to learn that while politics may seem boring... and maybe it is... controlling politicians can be fun."
Raezyr resisted the strong urge to strike his sibling, due to the fact that they were entering their large 'home' and they were too easily noticed there. The conversation was over for the moment. Even using vague terms, they had to be careful what they discussed in open. In the streets, they were two random guys still. Inside the hotel they recently purchased, they were supposed to be two dumb miners who got lucky and struck it rich. The workers would raise some eyebrows if they weren't careful.
They headed up to their large suite and talked things over a little more. Raezyr couldn't help but chuckle when the whole thing was laid out. He still resented the political nature of it, but he agreed that it was inevitable.
Trychon stole away to his room to do homework on the building they'd be headed to the next night as well as the various systems in place. His younger brother also went to his own room, but instead to meditate on a skill he'd been shown to hide his scar.
He sat on his bed with his legs crossed. His new artificial leg felt all at once normal and unnatural. The droid lover a few rooms over would tell him it was in his head, but it was an annoyance and a distraction. He did his best to clear his mind and focus on projecting a mental image. Only now, he was working on something larger than he'd ever done before in changing his scar, quite literally. He needed to make himself appear larger and also exude pure fear.
Hours later, and right on cue, Trychon knocked on his door. Done with his 'homework', he had a plan to test out Raezyr's progress. He led them into the den, lined up several ales, and then grabbed a few more to line up.
"Ok. I'm going to get real drunk like and not control it so I can try to imitate a weaker mind." He grinned. "That'll help me be able to see your progress more clearly. How's that sound?"
"Like an excuse to get real drunk and not control it."
There was no answer, just the sound of an ale being gulped mercilessly, directly from the bottle. A second bottle followed, then Trychon sat on their couch and signaled for him to start while he opened a third.
------------------
Hours later, both Sith were hysterically laughing at some of the 'modifications' they were able to make to Raezyr's appearance. They had long ago decided that he had in fact increased his mastery of the skill enough to follow through with their plan, and had since resorted to entertaining themselves with the skill, with continued drinking.
From the corner of the room, HK-51 stepped forward. "You are receiving a transmission from Mr. Helwae." When they were all in the suite like this, the droid served as their main computer interface.
Trychon pointed for his younger brother to take it as he stepped out of the camera's view.
Raezyr frowned and stood up. "Put it through to the vidscreen, Huck."
The image of the larger than life political hopeful sprung up. His eyes were squinted and his hair indicated that he had just rolled out of his bed. He was certainly worse for the wear, but there was also a look of concern hidden behind his eyes. "Mr. Vandelay. Good to see you this morning." His voice rang true as though he had just woken up from a healthy ten hours of rest after a day of reading. He was clearly in control even when he wasn't feeling well. "Glad to see I caught you while you were still in. I was calling to thank you again for meeting up with me so I could thank you properly last night."
"Call me Raezyr, Zhan. If you insist, so do we." He let his words come out a little rougher, trying to show that they were still recovering, even though they'd sobered up a number of times during the night and barely noticed that they hadn't slept.
"Fair enough, Raezyr. Listen... I also wanted to reach you and check in... make sure you didn't misunderstand me at all. I may have said some stuff hastily that I shouldn't have. It's not just that though... I trust you guys to keep things to yourselves under such circumstances. I am a great judge of character, and I know you boys are great guys."
"Um... you too?" Raezyr shrugged, unsure what else to say at that point.
"Thing is, I think I may have given the impression that I needed help with something, or asked you guys to do something for me. I don't need you to do anything... rash."
A light went on in Raezyr's head. He hid the recognition, but it was pretty obvious why Helwae was calling. He was having hangover remorse, and was worried that they were going to put a hit on his opponent. That would be potentially worse than the news he'd shared coming out. He needed to find a more subtle way to deal with it, or accept his consequences. He underestimated the Sith... which was understandable since he didn't have the slightest clue that they were in fact Sith.
"To be perfectly frank, Zhan.... I uh... Don't really remember... much of anything. I know we had a good time. That's about all. Any idea how long of a sanisteam I should take?"
Helwae's posture straightened almost immediately and his eyes brightened. He held himself well even before, and most wouldn't have noticed. Raezyr could see the difference in composure like it was a newstream feed running across the bottom of the transmission though.
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that you don't remember our night, it was a good one to be sure. I am glad though that I didn't give you the wrong impression. What about Mr. Alu... er... Trychon? Is he around?"
Raezyr pointed off to the side. "He's not up yet. I can tell you though that if it weren't for me, he wouldn't remember to come home, or even what planet we were on, after drinking like that. He's horrible."
A smile of understanding covered what was certainly more relief. "Well, we'll have to do it again sometime so you can remember, maybe a little more carefully or private. When Trychon wakes up, give him my best. If he does remember anything... funny... just have him call me and I'll clear it up."
With that, the transmission ended.
From the couch, Trychon clapped. "Bravo, brother. Bravo."
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